


(Isolated) United

by LokianaWinchester



Series: Jesus Christ Superstar [19]
Category: Jesus Christ Superstar - All Media Types
Genre: Multi, Porn with Feelings, sin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 21:02:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15057734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LokianaWinchester/pseuds/LokianaWinchester
Summary: Mhhhhhhhhh have some... feelings and smut.





	(Isolated) United

Jesus was running. Not really running in the conventional sense of the word, but he was running nonetheless.

There was a lot factoring into that, but it was mostly his own cowardice, he supposed. He was evading Judas and Mary. The two of them had not gotten along so well in the beginning, but Jesus had made one crucial mistake; he had isolated himself. It was not easy being in the spotlight all the time, it was not easy constantly being around people and sometimes Jesus needed a break. Some people just could not accept that, they kept on pestering him, trying to suck whatever health or solution to their problems they expected from him, out of him forcefully. His apostles, luckily enough knew his boundaries, but Jesus still could not catch a break.

So he completely shut himself off from everybody.

At first it was good. It was refreshing. He had nobody bothering him when he went off in solitude and told nobody about his whereabouts. He was finally free to have some space for himself, but after some time he realised that this was the only opportunity he had to be on his own at all.

The realisation came suddenly and with it came the fear. Jesus was a social person, he did not like being alone and yet this was his only chance at not being completely crushed by his responsibilities mentally and by masses of people physically.

But this isolation started feeling less good with every passing day. He yearned for touch, he yearned for gentle kisses, gentle touches, he yearned for more. He missed Judas.

What they had was beyond what Jesus could possibly describe. He absolutely adored Judas and he knew intimately, that Judas felt the same way, but since he started running, he could not stop.

He also missed Mary. Their relationship was different. It was more tentative. He knew that Mary adored him in the same way he felt for Judas, maybe more so, but he returned those feelings differently. Mary was amazing. Gentle, caring, but she was completely her own woman, as strong and independent as society allowed her to be. She was wonderful and Jesus loved her. But she had not gotten along well with Judas, which had caused some friction, some kind of conflict between them. Thinking back on it, it seemed childish, but it had put some additional distance between him and Judas.

That, as well, had been a reason for his running, but now Jesus faced another problem altogether. He had to face both of them now as they had somehow united to try and get him out of his hideouts, get him to somehow socialise more. It was not good.

At first, when hiding was still refreshing and not another burden added to the infinite weight on his shoulders, Judas had still been rather hostile towards Mary, never trusting her, but something had changed and now Jesus found himself opposite their joint forces. He had realised this when he returned to their temporary quarters one night, expecting to sneak into his room without anybody noticing, so he could get some sleep at least. But the night was not as dead as he had thought he would find it to be. Mary’s laughter sounded clearly through the crisp night air. Jesus stopped dead in his tracks when he was about to round the corner to the front entrance, seeing Judas and Mary on a bench together.

She was leaning into his side, looking up into the night sky, that stretched above them, dark, sparkling, beautiful. They were talking peacefully, lightly. Mary seemed to literally melt into Judas, whose arms were gently wrapped around her middle. Jesus saw the blond hair falling past his shoulders, obstructing his view of Judas’ face, but by the sound of his voice and the very familiar dip of his head, he was smiling. It was quiet for a few seconds, as Mary shifted and with a start, Jesus realised that they were kissing.

Emotions rushed through him faster than he could process them. He stumbled back a step and slumped against the wall, safely obscured by nightly shadows. He was jealous. That much was clear. He was jealous, because he wanted to be on that bench, but upon thinking about it, he became unsure. He was aware that he had feelings for both Judas and Mary, but it had never hit him just how similar those feelings were until that moment. He could not decide who he was jealous of, because he wanted both of them.

Jesus was also happy. It was good seeing the two of them no longer hostile and wary towards one another. He was happy, he really was. It was just the small matter of wanting to be there with them so desperately, that gave this whole happiness an uncomfortable note.

Jesus forced himself to breathe evenly. He would not be able to do anything about it anyway and that was the feeling that had shook him into jerking back. They would not want him there.

No matter how much Jesus wished, they would let him join in, let him be a part of this experience, that was never going to happen. The idea seemed off; most people could not love two people the way Jesus loved Mary and Judas, what were the odds, that both of them could.

Had Judas moved on?

The question popped into Jesus’ head and pushed its ugly claws deep into his flesh. Had he been gone too long, had been inattentive for too long? Judas deserved so much more than a partner who ran away day after day. But Jesus could not resist. The solitude called to him and now, with Judas and Mary being together, he did not even have a reason not to follow that call.

There had never been anything between Mary and him, really. No more than glances. Jesus knew that she had wanted more and he also knew his own feelings and desires, but he also knew those that Judas had and he had not been willing to risk that. Now, it was different. The two of them were perfect for each other in their own way and Jesus was happy for them while his heart bled out.

After that night he had become more hesitant to interact with them. He did not want to seem imposing, he did not want to ruin what they had by what they had had with him. It was not his place, so he went to his quiet places, for longer, hours crumbling away under the weight of his sorrow.

And now they were trying to get him to come back. Being away, Jesus was safe, but they were trying to get him to socialise more, as if he did not speak to so many people each and every single day. As if it would not be infinitely uncomfortable. But they were insistent and Jesus had to think harder to find peaceful places, walk further to reach silence, to be alone with his thoughts.

He was not sure why they did this. Maybe they felt bad about not telling him about their relationship. They probably thought he still did not know, but even after their kiss, Jesus had seen them exchange small gestures of intimacy, pecks on the cheek, obvious glances, holding hands. He was not stupid, nor blind and now he just wanted to be left alone, because if they got to him, he thought he might lose control.

He was touching people on a daily basis, a healing hand here, a forgiving embrace there, but he still hungered for more. He wanted to feel skin against his own, wanted the touch to be reciprocated, he wanted to feel intent behind the touch. And there was nobody who’s touches he needed as much as Judas’. Those hands, large but gentle, roaming over Jesus’ skin was a sensation he was never going to forget. Those lips, swollen from an eternity of kissing, pressed against his temple as he lay wrapped in those arms. This was what Jesus was missing, this was what he knew he could have. He wondered how different Mary’s touches would be, sometimes. Would she be gentle? Would she be forward about what she wanted? How would she feel in his own arms? Her lips against his?

He wondered too much and that was the exact reason Jesus had to run.

But they caught up with him. He should have known that he could not outrun two of the smartest people he knew.

They were waiting for him when he came back and he ran right into the trap. Shutting the door behind himself, he tensed up when he realised he was not alone in the room.

“Why are you hiding?” Judas sounded hurt. That had not been Jesus’ intention. Not at all, quite the contrary. Switching on the light, he saw Mary sitting on the bed, looking at him with a worried expression. Judas sat in the chair at the tiny table in the corner. He got up and made his way across the room towards Jesus.

Jesus backed away, but the closed door hindered him from running again. If he did now, it would look bad, he needed to face this, whatever it would bring. Perhaps Judas would leave, perhaps he would take Mary with him. It was not something Jesus liked thinking about, but he clenched his teeth and decided to stand his ground.

“Why?” Judas repeated and Jesus looked into his eyes. There was the pain, that was conveyed by his voice. There was disappointment.

“You two, you’re happy,” he uttered weakly. Judas nodded a smile spreading on his lips, but there was more to it, than happiness.

“We are. After all the time you told us to get along we finally did,” Mary spoke up. She looked him straight in the eye when she asked, “You know why?”

Silently, Jesus shook his head. Judas was too close to him, he could smell him, he could almost feel the warmth radiating off him. It was excruciating to hold back and yet he did.

“Because of you. The first thing we had in common was you. Our love for you.” Something about this confession of her feelings made Jesus’ heart leap, but then Judas took the final step into his personal space, interrupting their eye contact.

“You need to relax, Jesus. You need to let somebody take care of you because you clearly don’t. You’re so tense, you’re uncomfortable every day. We see it and we hate it. Both of us.” Mary continued speaking, but Jesus was barely listening to her anymore. Judas was finally touching him again and it took Jesus every bit of restraint to not audibly moan at the sensation, however small it was. The simple sensation of feeling Judas’ fingers brushing against his own, sent Jesus mentally scrambling for some hold on his sanity before he did something stupid.

“Let us take care of you, Jesus,” Judas murmured next to him and before he knew what he was doing, Jesus nodded.

Judas smiled at him and interlaced their fingers, pulling Jesus over to the bed. Mary shuffled to sit there, legs crossed, beaming at Jesus. Her expression was priceless, it sparked up Jesus’ hopes, he had buried so deep within. Maybe she still wanted him. Maybe Judas did as well. Maybe he still had a chance. But he was not going to blow it, simply by acting on something as stupid as a potentially misinformed hope.

He toed off his shoes and socks, settling on the bed next to her. His body was exhausted, muscles aching and bones feeling to heavy, but his mind was wide awake, racing. Gently, she pushed the hair out of his face, her fingers brushed over his cheeks and his forehead gently.

“If you’ll get rid of that shirt and turn around I can try to take away some of that tension,” Mary said. Jesus smiled weakly in response and did as she had told him. After discarding his shirt on the floor next to him, he turned around, resting his head on his arms, closing his eyes and trying very hard not to worry, not to panic. Everything was going to work out eventually, he told himself. He needed to believe it. Jesus breathed in deeply, exhaling through his nose; the anxiety slightly ebbed away. He heard the cap of a bottle snap open and felt cool oil on his skin seconds later.

The very moment Mary’s fingers dug into his muscles, pressing into the painfully cramped up areas, Jesus let out a groan. With strong grips and firm hands, Mary made her way across Jesus’ back, inch by inch working out the tension. She was truly a miracle. There was no other way to put it. He had not felt this good in too long, Jesus realised. With his eyes still closed, he lay there, enjoying the simple proximity and the relaxation that came with his fading doubts, when he felt the mattress dipping slightly next to him and a second pair of hands starting to comb through his hair. Mary had thrown it over his shoulder to keep it away from the massage oil; Judas caressed the base of his skull while gathering all of Jesus’ hair in his hands. Judas knew everything about Jesus, including his love of having somebody play with his hair and massage his scalp. And he used than knowledge to his very best.

Jesus lost himself in their touches for what felt like hours, relishing in simple skin to skin contact. He was being taken care of with such delicacy, treated in the exact way he needed it most, without even knowing it himself.

Then Mary’s hands stopped working on his back, Jesus sighed out, relaxed. Moments later, hot lips were pressed to Jesus’ shoulder blade. A tiny noise escaped his throat. Judas was still busy with his hair, while Mary’s hands now caressed the base of his neck, kissing along his shoulder, towards his jaw. He felt Judas twisting his hair up at the back of his head, fixing it with a hairband. Mary sat up to smile over at him.

“What?” Jesus asked for the lack of better articulation, rolling onto his side to look at Mary.

“Why did you do that?”

She looked at him blankly for a moment before responding.

“I thought you felt… like this too,” she said softly. The look on her face made Jesus weak. He wanted so desperately to believe that she meant that in the one way he wanted her to.

“I, yeah… but I thought you and Judas,…” he mumbled. Another pause followed, but Jesus did not dare look at either of them.

“I told you the one thing that brought us together is our love for you. It’s more than that now, but we still have that. I wouldn’t kiss you if I didn’t want to,” Mary said with a smile. Jesus sat up, leaning on one arm, bringing the other hand up against Mary’s cheek. Her skin was soft, copper hair lightly brushing against his fingertips as he leaned in. Mary closed her eyes a fraction of a second before Jesus did and then their lips met.

In that moment all the feelings Jesus had tried to disregard and bury came up. Opening his lips, he deepened the kiss and Mary eagerly responded in the same way. Somehow it was so much better than he could have imagined. Jesus shuffled to stabilise his position to pull Mary closer with his free hand, the other settled firmly against the back of her head, keeping her in place. Mary’s own arms were slung around his neck, reaffirming her enthusiasm.

When Jesus pulled away, he could only stare. Mary grinned at him, beautiful, wide eyed, her lips damp, expression beyond elated. For a moment Jesus had forgotten Judas was there, but this fact came back to him when strong fingers began caressing his oily skin. He bit his bottom lip to keep himself from making embarrassing noises, as Judas’ fingertips continued to tease him. His eyes were firmly fixed on Mary, who shrugged off the vest she was wearing and pulled her shirt over her head.

His concentration faded when Judas’ hands moved down Jesus’ shoulders then to his chest, ghosting over his nipples, before he wrapped his arms around his middle, his own chest pressing against Jesus’ back closely. Slowly, he pressed his lips to the nape of his neck, as Mary had done before. Jesus closed his eyes and tilted his head to give Judas better access. The latter moaned quietly against Jesus’ skin, the sound barely audible, breath hot against his skin, as Jesus spoke up softly.

“I missed you. Both of you.” Judas’ hold around him tightened while he moved to kiss his way up towards Jesus’ jaw.

“Oh, I missed you so much.” The words left Jesus’ lips freely and this time Judas’ arms loosened around him as he leaned closer and brought up his hands to cup Jesus’ face.

Jesus was completely vulnerable like this. There was nothing he could do but look into Judas’ eyes and perceive the absolute expression of devotion there, love like he remembered. In this moment the last doubt was drained from his mind and he found himself lurching forward into a kiss so familiar, yet so very foreign. That kiss, the movement of Judas’ lips against his own, the pressure of his hands against the sides of his face, all those little factors told Jesus all he needed to know. Judas had missed him as well.

Jesus was being kissed with all of Judas’ experience in doing so, unravelling him faster than he would have thought possible. When their lips parted, Jesus did not dare to open his eyes. He was sure the magic of the moment would break, but as Judas put a firm hand to his chest and pushed him back into the mattress, Jesus was not sure this would ever happen.

“Let us take care of you,” Judas breathed against his lips and Jesus nodded.

As Judas sat up to get rid of his own shirt, Jesus’ could barely take his eyes off this view until Mary opened the button at the waistband of his pants. Raising his hips, so she could peel the tight leather off, he watched her every movement. Once she had thrown the pants over the chair in the corner, she unclasped the back of her bra, throwing it on the chair as well, then kneeled over Jesus’ leg, leaning forward to capture his lips in another kiss. It was more urgent than earlier, sloppier, more heated. Jesus’ hands roamed over her back, settling on her waist, feeling her moan into his mouth as he caressed the skin at the hem of her underwear with his fingertips.

Jesus gasped when Judas circled one of his nipples with his tongue, teased it gently with his teeth, then pulled back to blow some cold air on it, before he went back to kissing the surrounding skin.

Mary shifted above Jesus, her leg pressed against his crotch, the friction sent thrills of pleasure through him. When Mary pulled back from the kiss, another moan left his lips when her leg shifted. Jesus felt himself getting hard at a rapid speed and from the glint in Mary’s eyes he knew that she had a good idea about what she was doing to him. He let one of his hands ghost over her hipbones as he moved it between them, past the hem of her panties. His other wandered along her side, caressing the soft skin, up until he was cupping her breast, slowly teasing a nipple with his thumb. Judas stopped concentrating on Jesus, kissing along Mary’s neck down to her other breast, focussing his entire being on caressing her, hands roaming, lips planting soft kisses, sucking and licking her flushed skin.

The glint in her eyes vanished, as they became dark and she bit her lip, when Jesus’ hand slid further between her legs, and he could feel between his fingertips just how wet she already was. He took his time massaging her gently, smiling at her reaction. Mary thrust back against his hand, that was now firmly lodged between his own hip bone and Mary’s crotch. Angling his middle finger slightly, Jesus dipped further into the wet heat, then pulled his hand back ever so slightly, to drag his slick finger past her clitoris.

Mary’s thrusts into his touch reassured him as he slid the finger inside her, pushing the heel of his hand against her clit, her movements and his own motions sending moans past her lips. The movements of her hips went further down, rubbing her thigh against his dick, making Jesus swallow down his own moans.

As Mary started grinding down onto his hand, Judas stopped his caressing her breasts and leaned in to kiss Mary deeply. Seeing the two of them like this, reminded Jesus of that time he had seen them on the bench, but now his dreams had come true. He was a part of this.

Curling his finger inside Mary was probably the best thing he could have done, the moan that left her mouth unparalleled by anything Jesus had heard in a long time. Judas kissed down her neck, sucking here and there. His one hand returned to her breasts. His other settled on her hip. Jesus decided to do it again adding a second finger and then she threw her head back letting out a groan, a few more thrusts of his fingers had her coming, clenching around them, before she slumped forward against Judas’ chest who looked down at Jesus, desire in his eyes.

Judas gently kissed Mary, who seemed to melt into his touch completely. Jesus let his head fall back enjoying the sensation of having Mary’s thigh rub against him through his underwear. He swallowed hard, wanted more.

But when he got more, he was not ready. An obscene moan left his mouth as Judas stroked him through the constraining fabric, as Mary climbed off him, getting rid of her own soaked underwear. Judas was not holding back at all; quickly, he pulled down the briefs to Jesus’ ankles, so he kicked them off onto the floor.

Judas put up his hair into a bun at his neck and positioned himself between Jesus’ thighs. But as quick and efficient as he had been until then, he went slow. Fingertips fluttering over the insides of Jesus’ thighs almost drove Jesus wild with desire. When Judas finally reached his dick, his strokes were slow, excruciatingly slow. Jesus’ hips shot up to thrust into Judas’ hand, but then he felt Mary’s hands on his hips, keeping him down, hindering his movements and Judas continued with his sweet torture.

When she was sure, Jesus had learned the lesson and was not going to move on his own, Mary’s hands made their way up his torso, stopping to caress his nipples the exact moment Judas chose to wrap his lips around the tip of Jesus’ dick. As Judas slowly took in Jesus further, tongue working in the exact way Jesus loved it, he looked up at Mary.

“You’ve gotta let go,” she whispered. “We want you to be relaxed and happy,” her hands came up to his face, similar to Judas’ earlier as she leaned down. “Let us make you forget about the stress.”

Jesus could not muster up any words in response, a weak moan was barely held back by his closed lips. Her kiss was slow, languid, an appreciation of what they finally had. Her hair fell down to both sides of his face as her tongue slipped between his lips. Kissing while having another mouth wrapped around his dick, bringing him infinite pleasure, was new. And so good. Jesus did not bother anymore to hold back his moans and cries as Mary kissed him senseless. It was too easy to lose himself in these pleasures, too easy to let go, but Mary said this was what she wanted. And Jesus was going to do what she said.

So he did not hold back when he felt his orgasm approaching, he did not even fight the urge to buck his hips up, as he had before. He let out one last cry into Mary’s mouth before Judas’ tongue twisted around his tip one last time and he came.

A few moments later he came back to full consciousness. Mary gently kissed his cheek, playing with a stray strand of his hair, while Judas came up on his other side to kiss him. Jesus could taste himself on Judas’ tongue and immediately his hand went to Judas’ crotch. He was hard, Jesus could feel the outline of his dick through the tight leather. This could not be comfortable.  Jesus’ hands moved upwards to unfasten the button, pulling down the zipper. Judas helped peeling the pants off his legs, throwing them on the floor. The outline of his dick was clearly visible through his briefs, precome staining the fabric. Jesus stroked along the bulge two, three times, observing the expression of sheer pleasure that crossed Judas’ face at finally being touched as well. When Jesus slid his hands past the waistband, freeing Judas’ dick, and started to use his knowledge about Judas’ likings to his very best, he realised that Judas was not going to last very long. Jesus sat up against the headboard, while Mary leaned over to kiss Judas deeply. He watched as Judas’ hands went to her hips, a touch, she was leaning into fully, and Jesus realised with a start that he was getting hard again. Continuing to pleasure Judas, he ignored his own condition until Mary took notice of it.

She let go off Judas to straddle Jesus. Feeling her skin against his own, did nothing to improve Jesus’ situation, but his mind was taken off this, when Judas turned to kiss him desperately. He was close, Jesus could feel it, so he tightened his fingers around the base. Judas cried out in protest and Jesus wanted to speak to him, wanted to tell him that he was going to let him come soon and that it was going to be worth the wait, but then Mary gave his dick a few strokes and Jesus was once again completely devoid of words.

The hot moans falling from their lips mingled in the space between their mouths. Jesus continued to stroke Judas, running his thumb over the tip, spreading more precome with a few twists of his wrist. Judas’ breath came in heavy, hot puffs against his cheek, cries sounding like music to Jesus’ ears.

Mary stopped stroking him and slowly lowered herself until he was completely buried inside her. The wet heat engulfing his dick was so good, felt so intensely good that for a moment he forgot about Judas, who started thrusting into his hand while Mary lifted herself up coming down again, establishing a steady rhythm after a few experimental motions.

Judas was kissing him again, the taste of come still on his tongue, which made Jesus thrust up into Mary just the slightest bit. The responding moan was answer enough for him, so he repeated the movement. Judas’ hand slipped between the two of them, rubbing Mary’s clit and her noises became even more urgent, pleading almost. Jesus’ thrusts upward became erratic as her hips came down more forcefully.

Jesus increased the speed of his strokes around Judas and soon he heard the throaty noises, he knew to be the warning for Judas’ oncoming orgasm. Burying his free hand in Judas’ hair, pulling him close, Jesus took him over the edge.

Judas went limp against his side, leaving Jesus to try and gently caress his cheek, but his motoric skills seemed shut off completely as Mary clenched around him and his own orgasm was inevitable. Judas’ fingers were still working Mary’s clit until she cried out and came, tightening around Jesus in the best possible way, which, paired with the stunning look of utter bliss on her face, sent him over the edge as well.

He came back to full consciousness when Judas wiped him down; Mary was cuddling into his side. Jesus put his arms around her and she shuffled closer. It was good, peaceful. However it was not at all what he had expected this night to turn out like when he returned from his walk. Or even when he had entered the room, or when he had enjoyed the massage. He smiled to himself, as he closed his eyes. Mary was breathing softly in his arms. He was not sure if she was awake or asleep already, but he was very tired himself; he only tried to stay awake for Judas, who climbed into bed next to him now. Feeling his arm around his middle reminded Jesus of all the nights similar to this one, all the times they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms after amazing sex. The few times they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms after a fight, neither of them wanting to apologise and yet both unable to ever sleep apart.

Sleeping alone had taken a lot of time to get used to, Jesus had realised. It was not only that he was cold; he also felt that a part of him was missing, that something was off, that he was vulnerable to everything. Now he felt safer than ever. He was surrounded by two people he absolutely adored, he was satisfied, he was warm.

Judas shuffled around behind him and a few seconds later, Jesus felt his gentle fingers, tugging the hairband from his hair, combing a finger through the dark strands falling past his shoulder.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“I love you,” Judas replied, in the same low tone of voice, but Jesus knew how much more was implied here. ‘You’re welcome’, was one of them. ‘Anytime’ another. And ‘I should never have let you go’.

Judas’ arm around him tightened, he felt a light press of lips against the back of his neck and shivered with the sensation. How he had missed being touched, in every way. He had kept himself so lonely that this simple kiss was unfathomably intense. Jesus was aware of every inch of his body that touched skin. His front curling around Mary, his back entirely pressed up against Judas. It was elating.

Slowly he felt himself drifting off. Mary’s even breaths were relaxing to feel, so he concentrated on them and on the slight press of Judas’ arm slung across his waist.

In a matter of moments, Jesus felt the welcoming embrace of a comfortable doze, pulling him down into slumber.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry?
> 
> Just wanted to get this off of my hands..


End file.
